


Vegas Fight Club

by emrys_knight_writer



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Other, Panic Attack, Whump, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emrys_knight_writer/pseuds/emrys_knight_writer
Summary: Clay has a severe panic attack, leading him to have to lean on his team for support.





	Vegas Fight Club

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Do not read if panic attacks or military things are triggering for you!!!

Clay wasn’t really sure how it started or even why it came so suddenly, but it was coming in hot. It all started with a numbness in his right leg and the powerful feeling of a beating heart. He’d never felt his heart beating before, but he felt it at that moment and it was beating hard. He started to feel severely lightheaded making him feel like he might pass out. He decided to try walking it off outside of his room. He stepped outside of the metal building, walking around the base, acknowledging his teammates as they passed by. Brock gave him a weird look and Cerberus barked but he ignored it, assuming Brock was tired and Cerberus was just moody.

It was when he got a few yards from the campfire that it got worse. The lightheadedness came over him, making him stumble. His numbness in his leg was getting to a point where he could barely even feel it there. He collapsed into a fold-up chair, barely keeping awake. He, much to his distaste, felt it as his stomach evacuated its contents. When he had decided he had nothing left, he attempted to stand, only to fall, again, into another chair. As it turned out-- he was wrong. He definitely had something left in his stomach because it all came up, once again.

Once there truly was nothing left, he stumbled over to a chair, slumping down into it. He hyperventilated, trying to curl up in on himself, hugging his arms around his torso. He couldn’t stop twitching, scratching at his ribs.

::::::

“You tellin’ me you put fifty on that game?” Neil strolled along with Jason on a light night walk, talking about anything and everything. The two did that any time either or both couldn’t sleep.

“I thought they’d cover the damn spread, Ray,” Jason crossed his arms. “You wanna light the fire, maybe kick one or two back?”

“Sounds good to me.” The two picked up their pace before seeing Clay. The two stopped in their tracks, staring at the pale, shaking SEAL. “The hell?”

“Clay,” Jason ran over to the young team member, checking his pulse. “It’s bad, Ray. His heart’s beating too fast and too hard. Call medical. Get Brock and Trent over here now."

:::::

It was all happening so fast. Trent had a penlight in Clay's eyes, making the SEAL squirm, squeezing his eyes shut. The medics rushed in with a body board, transferring Clay from the chair onto it. He became stiff, unable to move anything but his fingers. They rushed him to the medical temporary building. (or MTB because everything in the military just has to be given an acronym)

The oxygen mask they put over his face did nothing to help slow his hyperventilation. If anything, it kept him from passing out. He did everything he could to speak through the breaths, the mask, the panic, but he couldn't. It was obvious to the SEALs standing around him.

"Get over there and talk to him," Ray gave Jason's shoulder a light push.

Jason huffed against the action. "Why me?"

Neil's look of condescending boredom was something Jason was used to but never happy with. "The kid looks up to you. He trusts you. You could probably talk him down."

"I don't-"

"Just try."

Jason hesitantly caught up with the medics carrying clay to the MTB. He watched as the young SEAL continued to hyperventilate with wide eyes, one fist balled, one scratching at his thigh. "Hey, kid. You gotta calm down or you're gonna get sent home. What soldier wants to go home?"

Clay's eyes found their way to his mentor and team leader. Jason could see he was trying to speak, but he just couldn't. Jason put his hand on the young man's sternum, hoping to ground him. "Focus, Spenser." The two made eye contact, making the breathing slow down gradually to an inconsistent, but a slower breath. He finally managed to get a word out.

"-m sorry." Clay's voice was muffled by the oxygen mask and his voice was still pretty breathy, making it hard to hear and understand but Jason tried.

"Sorry?"

"Mmm." The exhaustion took its hold on Clay, making the SEAL drift into the darkness, giving Jason no time to find out what he meant.

::::::

"A few hours on an IV drip and he's back with the living," Sonny sat in the folding chair next to Clay's, handing him a beer.

"Thanks," Clay took the bottle from his teammate's hand, giving it a sip. "So why'd y'all ask me to come here?"

"This is what we like to call Vegas Fight Club," Ray leaned back in his chair.

"I'm sorry, what?" Clay lifted an eyebrow.

"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. You don't talk about Fight Club," Sonny propped his feet up on top of the cinder blocks surrounding the fire.

"This is what we've been doing ever since Bravo began. The team sits around drinking beer and just talking about stuff." Ray elaborated.

"Y'all didn't have to include me in this," Clay gave a nervous look around the fire.

"You're part of Bravo now, Clay. After that MTB-landing panic attack you had, you think we're not gonna make you join us?" Brock stepped in. Cerberus gave a confirming bork.

"So it's SEAL therapy? Bravo couch talk?" Clay started to laugh until he realized the look on everyone's face. "Oh... This is serious."

"You could get discharged, Clay," Trent leaned forward in his seat.

Ray nodded. "Look, man, a panic attack that lands you in MTB could get your ass sent home. We tell them you're talking to someone, they let you stay."

Sony crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. "Not that we don't want you to go or nothin'. Cus we do. Wish you could leave right now, but looks like you're stuck here with us, compadre."

"Aside from that... Cerberus sits in front of you, you talk, he doesn't, you listen. That's it. Afterward, you don't talk about what you said or heard. You don't tell anyone about this. Hence, Vegas Fight Club," Brock pet Cerberus on the head.

"Got it. I do this and I don't get discharged?" Clay's thoughts were with the years he spent trying to become a SEAL. The time he devoted to Green Team. The time he spent trying to convince Jason to not hate him because of his old man's damn book. His time in S.E.R.E...

"Yup." Trent watched as Cerberus walked over to sit in front of Ray.

"I can't stop thinking about that little boy. If my arm hadn't been messed up... If I just did things differently, I could have avoided killing a kid and that family wouldn't have lost their son." Ray stared into the fire for a moment before looking around to the listening guys. He tapped Cerberus's back, signaling for him to move to the next person.

When he sat in front of Brock, the next share started. "I miss my family. I miss the time when every loud, abrupt sound didn't make me think I'm being shot at. I miss the time when I had other comforts in life. Not just Cerberus or the team. My family, so many more friends who weren't scared to be friends with a SEAL who was never home and "might snap". I didn't realize how this job would affect every single thing in my life. You guys know I wouldn't trade it for the world, though. Somehow." He leaned back in his chair while the pup walked to the next teammate.

Jason sighed. "Y'know... I do and I don't know where everything went wrong. My wife- ex... Ex-wife, Nate, everything. Geez, I miss Nate. He was a great man. Great SEAL," everyone raised their bottles of beer, "Dammit, the guy had a family. Echo had families. All of these men and women have families and what happens? They die out here. Killed by the worst of the worst. If they don't get killed, they end up stateside with some mental disorder out of a book that really can't be defined by a single definition. The resources for vets are just awful and..." Jason sighed. He signaled the war dog to move on.

"Dammit," Trent crossed his arms, "Okay. I love this job, I really do, but I hate every second I have to worry about my brothers getting killed. Every mission, I'm terrified of the thought of seeing one of you dead on the ground, none of us able to help you. I don't want to see that. I don't want to hear the sounds of your families crying, screaming, begging for you to be alive. I don't want to see that flag draped over some stupid box that doesn't deserve to keep you underground. I don't ever want to go to Arlington again. I'm scared of making a mistake and ending up in Leavenworth." He sat back in the chair, letting the hair missile go to the next team member.

Sonny wasn't excited about it but he knew he had to. "It's everything. It's the people in this country who die for the agendas of the evil people in their homes. It's the men and women who have to fight so those evil people can't make other places like this one. It's everything. The worrying, the fear, the pain, the suffering, just all of it. And it's not going to stop. Ever. And it feels like I'm mopping in the damn rain. The cake-eaters at the top and them candy-ass soldiers who decide their life is worth more than someone else's. I'm done, tell the hair missile to move on."

And now it's Clay's turn. He gives Cerberus a good scratch behind the ear, laughing a little when he leans into the touch. He exhales as much as possible, closes his eyes and opens them once more, looking around at everyone who seemed to be waiting for him to speak. "Well, I won't talk about S.E.R.E. since y'all have all been through that except for one part. Y'know how you hallucinate in there? When I was in the water drums, I was being pulled underwater by my old man," he huffed, "one hell of a metaphor for my life, right? I lost my best friend in Green Team then found out he wasn't who he said he was and that his life sucked. I take all this time to prove I'm worthy to be part of the team then..." He looked at Jason who refused to look back at him, knowing what he wanted to say. "After everything, I have a damn panic attack that sets me back."

"No." Everyone looked at Jason, who broke one of the biggest rules. No talking when the dog isn't in front of you. "Yeah, I know. Listen, kid, you didn't get set back. We've all had them, before."

"Yeah, you're not special," Sonny took another sip of his beer, raising an eyebrow.

"Good to hear, cowboy," Clay laughed.

"You say that like an insult but I'm hearing it like the best comment you've ever given anyone so thank you, kid," Sonny gave a sarcastic thumbs up. Cerberus ran around the fire, jumping into Brock's lap, laying his head down on his human's thigh, closing his eyes with a huff through the nose.

"I'm going to bed," Trent stood, giving a small salute to the team.

"Yeah, same," Brock pat Cerberus on the butt, getting him to jump up. The two went to their bunk. Sonny followed right behind.

"I'm uh... I'm gonna go, too, I guess," Clay stood up, starting to walk to his, Brock, Cerberus and Sonny's bunk. Jason grabbed his arm as he walked by.

"Listen, kid, all of this stays here. You did great for your first time," Jason also stood, walking around his seat without another word. Clay hated it when he did that but, hey, what are you gonna do? He took the same path as his bunkmates before him, finally feeling secure and actually feeling better. He finally felt like he had some stability.


End file.
